


all tangled up

by sevensevan



Series: pride month 2018 [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, McCall Pack, Pack Cuddles, Pack Feels, Pack Movie Nights, they're a family alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: Allison shares a moment with Lydia during a pack movie night.





	all tangled up

**Author's Note:**

> i took some liberties with lydia’s banshee powers. or maybe i didn’t? i have no idea if anything she talks about is canon. i haven’t watched teen wolf since the finale aired. also took some liberties with the timeline. i realize that not everyone in the fic is alive/on the show at the same time but you know what? i’m gay and love friendship so it doesn’t matter. this was for an anon prompt on tumblr. enjoy.

Allison is way too warm when she wakes up.

It’s still dark outside. Scott’s TV is still on, the volume low, playing whatever stupid romcom Isaac and Scott had chosen. She blinks wearily, trying to identify the source of the warmth. It becomes quite apparent when she shifts and a heavy arm across her waist moves with her.

Carefully, she detaches herself from Isaac’s side. He mumbles something in his sleep, rolling over and throwing his arm over Stiles as a replacement little spoon without waking. Allison stands, looking around the living room and smiling fondly at what she sees. Isaac and Stiles, now wrapped tightly together, are passed out on the floor. Scott is sleeping on the couch, half-lying down. Kira and Malia are sleeping on the other end, Kira’s legs across Scott’s lap, Malia lying on top of Kira.

It had taken Allison awhile to get used to this, this casual tactility that seems to come so easily to the rest of the pack. She supposes it has to do with the rest of them being supernatural creatures, and Stiles being…well, Stiles. The first time she had fallen asleep during a movie night and woken up with both Scott and Malia on top of her, she hadn’t been able to look either of them in the eye for a week. Now, though, it’s normal, easy, to the point where this sort of nonchalant physical closeness slips it into all of their behaviors, even at school. One would think that the complicated dating history between the pack members would prevent Allison from being comfortable with Scott kissing her cheek when they see each other between classes, or Malia regularly taking naps with her head in Allison’s lap at lunchtime, but there’s not even a hint of awkwardness or hesitation in any of it.

Allison is fairly sure there are some _very_ interesting rumors being spread about the group of them at school. It doesn’t bother her. Her pack, her _family_ , as bizarre and dysfunctional as they may be on occasion, is all she needs.

But now, looking around the room, she notices that one of them is missing.

Allison slips into the kitchen for a glass of water, checking her phone and squinting at the bright light. No new texts, and none from the person she’s looking for. She puts her phone away, and there, leaning against the counter, is Lydia.

“Hey,” Allison says, keeping her voice down. Everyone in the pack but her and Lydia sleeps fairly deeply, despite the fact that most of them have enhanced senses of some sort, but it’s dark out, and Allison is tired, and speaking any louder seems much too exhausting.

“Hi,” Lydia murmurs, her voice as low as Allison’s. She’s holding a mug, and while Allison may not have enhanced senses, she can definitely smell hot chocolate. She holds her hands out, smiling sweetly at Lydia. Lydia rolls her eyes dramatically, but hands the mug over with a smile. Allison sips it, savoring it. She swears Lydia makes better hot chocolate than anyone else she knows. Lydia claims she makes it with powder, but Allison doesn’t believe her.

“Peppermint?” Allison asks, handing the mug back.

“Of course.” They’re quiet for a bit, the moment not requiring any words. Lydia sets her hot chocolate down, turning to face Allison fully. “Sleep well?” she asks. Allison shrugs.

“Isaac is too warm,” she says.

“Werewolf body temperatures,” Lydia says in agreement. “Great for cuddling in the winter. Not so much in July.”

“How about you?” Allison asks. “What woke you up?” Lydia shakes her head, looking down. Allison frowns, stepping closer to her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lydia says. “Just…banshee stuff.” A jolt of fear shoots down Allison’s spine, and suddenly she’s a lot more awake than she was only seconds before.

“Is someone going to—“

“No one’s going to die,” Lydia says before Allison can even finish her sentence. “Everything’s fine. Just…” She sighs. “I hear voices, sometimes,” she says in a near-whisper. “Not just—not just when people are about to die, but…whenever they need to tell me things, I guess. Only I never know what the fuck they’re _talking_ about.” Her voice gets louder towards the end, louder and upset.

“Hey,” Allison says, stepping forward. She pulls Lydia into a hug, one hand on the small of her back, the other slipping into her hair. “Hey, it’s okay.” Lydia leans into the hug, wrapping her arms around Allison’s waist. Allison ignores the shiver that wants to run through her body at the contact. Hugging anyone else in the pack is safe, comforting, familiar. Hugging Lydia is all of those things, but it also makes Allison’s hands tremble, her stomach twisting with anxiety. It’s not unpleasant, exactly, but it makes Allison feel _wrong_ somehow. Like she shouldn’t feel this way, like it’s—taking advantage, or something. Which is ridiculous, especially given that practically everyone in the pack has been romantically involved with at least two other members at one point or another, but Allison can’t make the feeling go away, and she can’t stop herself from being ridiculously in love with Lydia, either.

“I just wish I could turn it off,” Lydia mumbles into her shoulder. “I just want one night of sleep without worrying about whether my dreams are just weird or actually premonitions.” Allison hugs her a little tighter.

“I didn’t know you got things like that,” she murmurs. “Dream premonitions.”

“Nobody does,” Lydia says, lifting her head from Allison’s shoulder. Their faces are insanely close now, and it’s all Allison can do to keep her gaze from dropping to Lydia’s lips. _It wouldn’t be appropriate_ , she tells herself. The moment is about Lydia, not Allison’s feelings.

“Do you think you should tell Scott?” Allison asks. Lydia scoffs slightly.

“I’m not telling Scott,” she says. “I’m telling _you_.” Allison blinks.

“But—“

“I _trust_ you, you idiot,” Lydia says. “Not as a member of the pack. As—as _you_.” Allison shakes her head, uncomprehending. Lydia huffs. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” Allison can feel Lydia’s breath. She can’t speak with her this close, and her self-control finally breaks, her eyes slipping down to Lydia’s lips. It’s barely a half-second lapse, but the moment Allison’s eyes return to Lydia’s she can see that Lydia noticed it. Lydia smirks, the expression making Allison’s heart jump the way it always does, before she leans in and kisses Allison.

It’s brief, gentle, unhurried. Allison slips her hand through Lydia’s hair to the back of her neck, pressing her closer. The pack sleeps in the other room while Lydia and Allison kiss in the kitchen, and by the time Lydia pulls away, smiling widely, Allison is pretty sure she’s never been happier in her life.

“Come on,” Lydia says, stepping back and taking one of Allison’s hands. She laces their fingers together, still grinning. “We should get some sleep tonight.” Allison allows herself to be led back into the living room, watching the way Lydia’s hair moves as she walks with an almost awestruck feeling in her chest. For a moment, she wants to pull Lydia back into the kitchen, demand to know what the kiss meant, what any of it meant, what they’re doing.

_But_ , she realizes. _I don’t need to_. She already knows exactly what she and Lydia are. It doesn’t need words.

They turn the TV off and lay out a few extra cushions on the floor, a little bit separate from the rest of the pack but close enough that they can still hear Isaac mumbling in his sleep, barely louder than his breathing, that they can still see Stiles’ silhouette twitching, unable to lie still even when sleeping deeply. They curl up together under a thin blanket to allow for the summer heat. Lydia tucks into Allison’s side like she belongs there, and Allison is starting to think that maybe she does.

The next morning, Allison pulls Lydia aside as Scott and his mom make waffles for the pack of hungry, teenage werewolves and assorted supernatural creatures in their living room. Lydia smiles at her and reassures her that she slept excellently, no premonitions at all. Then she gets up on her tiptoes and kisses Allison, her mouth tasting of orange juice and the bacon she had stolen from the kitchen.

For a moment, the room goes silent. Then Isaac snorts loudly and says, “No one could _possibly_ have seen _that_ coming,” in what seems to be the most sarcastically deadpan tone he can muster.

“I did,” Malia announces, totally missing the joke.

“Me, too,” Kira agrees, and then everyone in the room goes about explaining just how obvious it was to them that Allison and Lydia were more than friends.

Allison blushes heavily through all of it, her hand tightly wrapped around Lydia’s, a smile firm on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm writing a fic a day for pride month, and i'm taking any and all lgbtq prompts through the end of june. leave a comment or send me an ask on tumblr @daisys-quake. leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


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